Allusions, if in Shades of Grey
by pratz
Summary: Life is always myriads of grey with no surety, bits of grayish gradation, and Tieria sees life just fine.


**Allusions, if in Shades of Grey**

Author: pratz

Disclaimer: Gundam 00 and its characters respectfully belong to Sunrise.

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Notes: this was written for the fanfic competition hosted by the LJ Community Gundam 00. The theme is 'Lockon.' Mind that when I wrote this, I didn't know about Lyle's joining Celestial Being. Errors all are mine, since this piece remainde untouched while sitting quietly in my harddisk.

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A mobile suit to its pilot was like a paintbrush to a painter. It was a tool to use, a device to bridge the intangible imagination and the media of art, and it would never be a measure by which the painter would be measured. After all, a painter chose his paintbrush and not the other way around.

Tieria Erde stared at the very massive white mobile suit in front of him, wondering if this giant was a stray Gulliver. He too wondered if this white giant was lonely.

"Tieria," the person who held his hand began, "it's yours. You will pilot this Gundam."

He averted his eyes from the white giant to the person beside him. "Why?"

"Because you were born for this and this alone."

Thus, Tieria Erde began to believe that he was measured by this Gundam.

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"Kujou," he greeted formally.

The woman before him smiled. "Please call me Sumeragi Li Noriega."

"Sumeragi Li Noriega." The name rolled off his tongue uneasily. It was uncommon to have three different roots of culture blended in one single name. But then again, this was Celestial Being. Secrecy was, indeed, everyone's real name.

With the woman, came also her crew. A well-built man—average pilot—and a somewhat clumsy but cynical fellow of his. A loner red-haired girl and her much noisier brunette comrade. He wondered what Veda had seen in them to allow them to board the Ptolemaios.

And last came two men, one a middle-aged engineer and the other young but not young enough to be around Tieria's age.

"Tieria Erde, isn't it?" the man asked. "Well, nice to meet a fellow Meister."

He had always thought that there was something off about the way Lockon Stratos—cheesy pun for an all too affable man—behaved. His smile was too merry, his eyes too bright. But even a good actor could not hide from Veda, Tieria believed. Veda knew everything.

And Veda always shared with its most loved son.

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As time rolled, to say that he was getting along well with the crew of Ptolemaios would be the understatement of the universe. What would it benefit him, after all? Even alone he could do every mission trusted to him. Even alone he could think and act much, much better than the rest. _Who needed a team if you were already a one-man army_, he reasoned.

"It's not good, you know."

"What's not good?"

"You. Acting all solitary and such."

"I'm never good." He closed his book and stood to leave. "I'm great."

Lockon could save his concern for someone else.

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Allelujah Haptism—for Veda's sake, Tieria did not want to know where the hell Allelujah had the inspiration to take such codename from—had found him when he was in the cockpit of Virtue.

"Hello," the man greeted politely.

Tieria was tempted to frown. Each and every single person in the Ptolemaios here had his or her own issues; there was no need to cover it with politeness.

"Is this yours?" Allelujah tilted his head at Virtue's head, his visible grey eye brightening a little. "Mine is Kyrios. Lockon's is Dynames, isn't it?"

"Why bother to ask if you've already known?"

"Well, I have to admit I'm curious." Allelujah offered a neutral smile. "You're the only one who's absent in the meeting room when I came."

"So you're here in search for a missing party."

"Actually, I'm curious of which Gundam you might be piloting." He turned to glance at the only one left. Exia. "I thought you're Exia's pilot."

Lockon had asked him the same earlier. To be honest, he did not like Exia and what it was designed for. _Why came close when you could take care of problems from the distance_, he answered Lockon. And Allelujah, too, got the same answer.

"So what should I call you?" Allelujah asked.

"Any name is just fine with me," he said. "Just don't be mistaken me for the name you call me by."

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The first time he had felt estranged from Veda was when Setsuna F. Seiei came to join the crew. Setsuna's coming was an amusement only to Lockon, who often appeared to play the big brother that baby-sit his fellow Meisters. This was the first time Tieria did not understand Veda's lines of reasoning.

"Why?"

His question echoed in the empty, digitally designed room, as if asking himself back instead of answering.

With this, all Meisters were proved to have twisted pasts, each and every one of them. Not even he was an exception. Sumeragi seemed to notice it, too, but the tactical analyst did not say anything. She only offered him a half smile when she came across him after he exited the chamber of Veda.

And it was also the first time he wondered if he were indeed alone.

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"What're you reading?"

It was a book he found by chance in Virtue's hangar. Someone must have forgotten and left it there. The book was old and dog-eared, telling a classic children story of a journey in a strange land of witches and magical creatures. The dream was too nice, and the imagination did not hold up to his taste.

Lockon peeped from behind his shoulder. His grin afterward was annoying. _But of course_, Tieria thought. Everything about Lockon Stratos was annoying.

"A nerveless lion, a heartless tinman, a brainless scarecrow and a wandering, homesick sweetie?" Lockon said. "Never knew you like this kind of story, Tieria."

He stood and slammed the book onto Lockon's stomach, who only oof-ed in response.

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"Tieria," Allelujah called.

Tieria almost could hear the worry in Allelujah's voice. "I'm going to Veda's chamber."

"Stop picking on him every time he's around, Lockon," Allelujah said, concerned.

"I'm only asking. What harm will it do?"

"Immature adults," Setsuna mumbled nonchalantly under his breath, which Haro emphasized with its own jolly repeat of, "Immature adults! Immature adults! Immature adults!"

"Oi, partner, are you going against me, too?"

The banter went on, but he did not care. They were not in Kansas, they had no Toto and there was no yellow brick road to follow to go home.

The story was illogical, and illogical nonsense did not become Tieria Erde.

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After that disaster, Allelujah came to him.

"Next time, do it."

"Do what?"

"Kill me."

He forced himself not to look away.

"To protect, I mean," Allelujah clarified. "Protect the Gundams and their secrets. That's what you're here for, isn't it?"

"I'm here to eradicate wars."

"And there's more to it than meets the eye." Allelujah's eye said more than his words. Of course. They were frequent partner in missions; of course this man realized more than he should have. "Whatever it is you have in mind or whatever it is Veda has planned, there's no need to tell me. Just do what you have to do."

Oh yes, he would. After all, he was first and foremost Veda's son, manifestation of Veda's will, his own be damned.

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That girl, Christina, made the four of them stand together closely. _To make a memory_, she said. A photograph to serve as a remembrance.

Setsuna, awkward and uneasy, was beside him. Behind them, stood Allelujah and Lockon. He almost could not bear this closeness, but maybe it was natural because this was his first time. Christina counted to three before she took a picture of them with her cell-phone. He left immediately after that but made a mental note to hack onto her cell-phone using Veda and saw the photograph himself.

_What on earth she's thinking?_ he thought. The photograph was taken in black and white configuration. Lockon's green and Setsuna's reddish brown eyes looked all of the same color. Allelujah appeared darker than he was, more fitting to be his other self. Haro was there, too, half hidden behind Allelujah's head, because Lockon had insisted that the mechanical tinkering was part of the team, too. He himself had a miniscule scowl on his face, a beginning of a frown between his brows. _You look uncomfortable_, he commented for himself.

Later, he realized that the photograph was not simply taken in black and white. Instead, there were multiple shades of grey, myriads of gray layers, bits of grayish gradation. Never on an exact surety. Never on an unwavering stand.

Just like their lives.

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Disaster never came on its own, Sumeragi said. Disaster always brought a number of companies with it. It was very fitting now that her words came true in time like this.

"Didn't I tell you to rest?"

"I want to see."

Lockon's one good eye narrowed visibly. A gleam of green. A gleam of frustration. A gleam of something Tieria did not understand. "I've told you not to make a fuss over this."

"Let me see."

Then the patch was loosened, the bandage lowered. Marred scars. Minor stitches. Darkish discoloration. Shadowed by curls of brown tainted with smear of reddish black at each end of the curls.

It might be best for Setsuna to follow his heart, but it did not work at all for Tieria Erde. The first time he followed his instinct, Nadleeh was revealed—only because he did not want to get killed though he did not really have a reason to live. Next, following his heart out of jealousy and irritation due to the Trinitys problem only get him even more confused. And now this.

Tieria did not like confusion. His world was supposed to deny any place for such disorder called uncertainty.

"You dimwit," Lockon said in that tone he used with everyone troubled, in that tone that Tieria wanted to mean understanding and more. Still, no anger. "Is it that difficult for you to understand what it takes to make a human _human_?"

He did not answer, but he guessed that Lockon had already grasped it as the man put his patch on.

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"I understand that you're mad at me."

He did not bother to turn to face Setsuna.

"Let me just say this before we all go," Setsuna continued. "Don't die in vain."

_Funny_, he wanted to scowl aloud. Even Allelujah had asked him simply to not die out there. It was only natural for fellows to wish each other good luck, be safe and please return in one piece. But then again, maybe Setsuna had sensed it along the way. That this was not a journey home. That this was a suicidal descent to hell along with humanity and all of its sins.

The metal of Nadleeh's cockpit felt cold against his yet ungloved hand. His measure. And also the one who measured him. Veda's inerasable mark on him.

Fool Setsuna and his sentimentality.

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Broken ribs. Fissured bones. Torn inner tissues. And a concussion, perhaps. That was for him. Run out of energy. Badly damaged. Cut off of all communication lines. That was for Nadleeh. It looked they made an unsightly sight of a pair, no thanks to a scumbag of a pilot whose movement he should have been somewhat familiar with.

But there was still so much more to do. That blue planet was still tainted with evils. The Meisters were still here. Celestial Being was still here, un-Veda-ed or not. The plan was still halfway done. And he still had more to learn, still wanted more to understand, still could not find a home.

But maybe he had already.

"And now," he whispered, "to where you are, Lockon."

With that, he broke the old bond and forged a new one.

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He had found this man just right when he was beginning to forget.

It was easy to begin with. Just a short message of 'I was your brother's acquaintance' did the wonder. Next were a café in a European's capital city, two cups of good coffee and an evening talk. Yes, easy.

Everything about this man screamed of that fateful moment four years ago, a painful reminder of one unfortunate result to which he had contributed, too. This man told him of the bombing, of family torn wrecked and brothers torn apart because of humanity's lust for power, of brothers who went separate ways, one for revenge and another for life, both in the memory of their family.

He listened to the story and watched each and every gesture, trying to remember if this was exactly how Lockon was four years ago sans the patch. _No_, he shook himself back to reality. And either Setsuna and Allelujah or the photograph would say no, too. The shoulders were a tad broader, the hair color a bit darker and the voice lighter. Instead of being all laid-back, this man was quieter. There was certain sadness lurking behind the green eyes, but the anger and grudge were less palpable.

This was not Lockon.

"Was it a good death?"

He raised his eyes from his cup of coffee.

"My brother's death," Lyle Dylandy clarified. "Was it a good one?"

Tieria had always thought that 'a good death' required a quiet bed, a gathering of family and friends nearby and one last content smile. And they all were one luxury that Gundam Meisters never had.

"Yes," he breathed. "It was a good death."

"I see." The light in Lyle's eyes softened. "Thank you."

He did not know why or for what Lyle thanked him, so he did not say anything.

Lyle stared at his cup of coffee, though with a faraway look on his face. "He's on the path of revenge, I know." A soft, forced laugh—nothing like Lockon's. "And for all the things I couldn't do, he took my place."

What a humorless irony.

"Will I see you again?"

"You won't." He put an amount of tip and made a move to leave, aware of Lyle's eyes following him. "Ever." And it was the truth, because, honestly, he did not know why he even bothered to do this at all. "But I will protect you, you and this world you're living in."

He did not say why, did not care to elaborate further and did not look back when he left.

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End file.
